The Political Sense
by Sara6
Summary: Michael and Courtney have a confrontation.


The Political Sense

**The Political Sense**

  
Category: Michael/Courtney  
Summary: Courtney and Michael have a confrontation. Things are explained, feelings are addressed. Notes: Fine. I give. I'll write this fic, because I'm tired of fighting my Stimulator urges. Enjoy it, and appreciate my pain.  


I didn't mean for it to happen this way. It was supposed to be easy for me. My mission. But it wasn't. I had told myself I wouldn't let the past affect my actions now. And I did. What's wrong with me?  


It was like I couldn't help it. That's no excuse, I know. I don't even have room to talk. I screwed up. I let my stupid emotions get in the way, and now Michael will never trust me again. Why should he? All I've done was lie. And now that I've revealed the truth, he still won't be able to do anything about it. He's too loyal. I don't know what else I can do.  


Someone's knocking. I better answer. Maybe it's Maria, coming to threaten me again. Won't that be entertaining.  


But it's not Maria. It's Michael, and my heart stops.  


"Michael," I say. "Hi."  


He nods. "Can I come in?"  


I step back. "Sure." He enters, and starts pacing around the room.  


Finally he stops, and approaches me. "Why did you help us?" he demands.  


"You know why," I answer.  


"I know what you told me. I need to know more."  


I look up at him, trying not to remember the way his lips felt against mine. "What do you want to know?" I ask carefully.  


"Why you're here. What you're trying to accomplish." His voice lowered. "Why you did...what you did. And why I can't stop thinking about you."  


This is surprising. He's thinking about me? No, not like that. He couldn't be thinking about me like that. I choose to dodge that last question. "Michael, I told you. I'm here because I want things to change. There's a lot of us out there that want you to lead. They chose me to talk to you. I helped you because...I'm on your side. Why can't you believe that?"  


He looked at me, then down at the floor. "Answer my last question."  


That's a bad idea. "Michael..." I plead with him.  


He steps closer to me now, angry. "What did you do to me? Why do I want you so much?!" He looks freaked out, and I understand why.  


"We have...a history," I tell him hesitantly.  


"What does that mean?"  


"Before, I mean in your previous life, we were together. It didn't work." I'm suddenly nervous that I've revealed so much. What will he say?  


But instead of looking upset, he looks interested. "Together. What do you mean?"  


"Sit down," I say. He sits. "Okay. God, um, I can't believe you don't remember any of this. Okay."  


"Get to the point," he tells me.  


I look him straight in the eye. "We had quite the forbidden love affair. We met at a young age. At that time, things were relatively peaceful. You were my first love, and I yours. However, our parents did not support our relationship. I was a nobody to your parents, and my parents had reservations about me being with a member of a race they did not neccessarily trust. We had to sneak around, but we were fine with that. Then Max's father arranged for you and Isabel to marry, to further their political power and keep it in the family. You objected, but they didn't listen. We wanted to marry, but it was impossible. Finally, we became desperate. We ran away together to get married. But we were found out. Max turned us in. I was sentenced to be executed, and the night before it was to happen, you helped me escape. I ran. Soon other members of my race found out about what happened, and were furious. One of my people assassinated Max's father, and Max took over. Civil war broke out between the two races, and Max only spurred it on. I joined a group that wanted to overthrow him, and spent the next few years in hiding. I never saw you again, Michael. You were killed in battle. And...here I am now. I guess that's it."  


He looks at me as if with new eyes. "If we would have gotten married, none of that would have happened. No war would have broken out. Max stopped us. It was his fault."  


"Yeah. But all that did happen. And I'm here to try and fix it, and make sure those mistakes don't get made again." I sit down next to him on the couch. "I just don't know how. To fix it. I was supposed to come here to make things right, and I let my past feelings for you get in the way. I'm sorry about that."  


"I don't remember any of the things you talked about. Why don't I remember?"  


I smile softly at him. "It was a lifetime ago."  


"I feel all of these things for you. I never understood why I wanted you so much. Now I do. Why won't it stop?" he looks at me pleadingly.  


I fight the urge to pull him into my arms the way I had so many years ago. "I guess the feelings outlive the memories."  


"I guess." He looks so sad. I sigh. "I should go," he tells me, and stands, then walks to the door. He reaches for the doorknob, then turns back to me. "Thank you. For helping us. And for telling me everything tonight."  


"You're welcome." I stand as he opens the door, then half steps out. He looks out into the night. "Michael-" I say hesitantly.  


He sighs, then shuts the door. Before I know it, he's wrapped his arms around me, and is pressing his lips to mine. It's a gentle kiss, far sweeter than the other kisses we've shared, yet it's electric. I can feel all the old emotions come flooding back, and I can feel his. He's afraid, afraid of the intensity of what he feels, afraid to remember what he's felt before, so long ago. He doesn't want to resist, but he knows he has to. We kiss for a moment longer, then he pulls away.  


"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'm so sorry I don't remember." Then the door opens, and he is gone again. And I am alone.  


The End  
11-10-2000 

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